This blog is dedicated to whatever I happen to feel like saying at the time. I am not always right, but I reserve the right to think I am. Everything I say is not going to be absolute truth, as I fall prey to satire, comedy, mayhem and bad reading habits. If you choose to believe what you're told without doing any research, you get what you deserve. If you know the answer better than I, speak up, or forever hold your, well, you know...

Monday, May 3, 2010

While You Were Out...

God called.
I told him you were busy, but he said he just wanted to check some things out.
He wondered if were true that one of us could go out Saturday night, like to Walmart & stuff, and buy a shotgun & a half gallon of vodka, but even a seed of the herb he created for us could land you in jail for a year.
Then he asked me if we'd all gone blind. He figured that with all the messing around, stinking up the place by burning & refining oil, not to mention those big ass oil slicks, that we'd forgotten about the Sun, that big bright ball that provides all the energy the planet has ever needed.
Anyway, he sounded pissed.
Something about, 'you fucked it up, you'd better un-fuck it.
Or else'.
I dunno, dude.
He sounded pretty serious to me.
What the hell have you been DOING, man?

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WELCOME TO THE JUNGLE

I have set up this blog site largely because I don't want anyone else to be held responsible for the entirety of my ranting, thoughtfulness, ego mania, raging dispair or uncontrolable delight. Ad Nauseum.

I thoroughly enjoy posting on the ever-so-lighthearted Face Book, however, everybody needs a ventilator sometime.This is mine.Take it for what it's worth.Or not.I'll probably do it anyway.Yes, I'm sure of it.

And yes, all material here is copyrighted.Please ask permission before using any of it, or at least give me the damn credit.

About Me

Lord David was born feet first with teeth, stolen by Gypsies & raised by Pirates.
After being captured by The Evil One during the War with the Giant Rats of Sumatra, Lord David escaped by drawing a window seat third class bus ticket to Cleveland on a cereal box top, and jumped ship in New Orleans.
Scoundrel, artist, bartender, hot shot guitar player, ex-punk & rock singer, late night pub philosopher, general layabout & vagabond, he can be found doing whatever pays or entertains. He is also the founder & host of the Skull Club.